


Not a Garden Variety Job

by SunnyD_lite



Category: Firefly
Genre: Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-06
Updated: 2010-04-06
Packaged: 2017-10-08 18:15:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/78201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnyD_lite/pseuds/SunnyD_lite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He censored the first seven images that danced across his mind on how he could use it to kill, maim, disable, or subdue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not a Garden Variety Job

**Author's Note:**

> TamingtheMuse Prompt: Valley of the Shadow

He was handed a hoe.

He censored the first seven images that danced across his mind on how he could use it to kill, maim, disable, or subdue. He merely bowed and followed the Abbott into the garden.

"While you are to work the entire garden," the heavy man huffed, waving to a square of dry earth, "you will be alotted this plot for your own cultivation. Of course, what you grow will be shared."

"Of course." Working for the betterment of the whole was nothing new; however he had previously been more focused on subtraction than addition. Getting his hands dirty was his prior job.

"This is a good time to focus your thoughts. I trust that you have reviewed your meditation text." The Abbott swung his cassock from a pile of rotting vegetation at the end of the path.

The pile was larger than he thought as some ooze slid over his sandal. This was to be his new life, a far cry from the sterility of the central worlds. His was forsaking clear purpose for something else; something he hoped to find confined by these sun-warmed stone walls. A final bow and the Abbott retreated to the slightly cooler interior of the House.

He had not revealed his past when he was admitted, only that he was not running from but seeking for. He did wonder at the House's research skills when he was told his first meditation, although maybe the Twenty-Third Psalm was always give to those who wished to become Shepherds.

Starting at the right corner of the garden, he began to move the earth around the plants. There were weeds choking the posted bean vines and tomato plants. He had to move carefully to only remove what was foul and keep what was good.

Weeding his mind was a more difficult task.

He fell into a rhythm, working muscles in a new way. The sweat began to bead on his face, dripping down his cheek. Food had only been fuel for him before, a necessity. He had never considered its source, he'd spent far more time concerned with the source of his weapons.

He had been assigned two tasks. Moving down the row he started to recite the words familiar from many funeral services. He had always liked to see a job through to the end.

"The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want." But he did want. That's why he was here. Before he had been a laser, aimed with sincerity and purity of focus. No wants, no needs. But that focus was waning. With a blink he halted his hoe. He'd been about to cut through the cabbages, not clearing them.

"He maketh me lie down in green pastures." He straightened his back and took in his new world. He had travelled many places, seen many worlds and rarely had he seen a place greener than this. Of course of the many things he'd observed, scenery and flora wasn't primary. There were things growing he could not recognize, which must mean all their derivatives were benign.

"Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death; I will fear no evil." No, evil was not what he feared. And that valley was a place of long term residency. He had been the rod and the staff for his masters. But fear, that was never his home.

"Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:" As he knelt to work the carrots he swallowed down a chuckle. Goodness and mercy? He had left a silent trail of many things in his own wake— mercy was not amongst them.

He looked around. Before he had know what he was, what purpose he served.

That certainty had left him. He wasn't sure how to replace it.

"I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever."

But he hoped this was the place to find out.


End file.
